


Ours is the fury

by JessTheCritic



Series: Stormborn [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, The Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessTheCritic/pseuds/JessTheCritic
Summary: The Baratheon-Lannister family has never been satble. A on going war of grudges and favours. Often then not the little stags and lion cubs are chought in the crossfire. One stag in particular -dressed in lions fur-, has long been the bargaining chip in the never ending war. With the times he has grown out his fur and showed his antlers. Which might be picked up by the wrong senses. A proud stag can fast become a dead stag.





	1. Birth of Stephan

Her trembling roar could be heard throughout the caste grounds. Load and clear, and utterly unbearable. It was the roar of Queen Cersei Lannister, reminding the world that she was in unbearable pain, as if the world had forgotten. Truly - her world been filed with pain, the unforgiving pain of labour. From yesterday’s dawn, now reaching todays midmeal. An evil necessity. If the Queen was to secure her Kings dynasty, she was to endure. Endure thoroughly as long as the king liked to take  _his rights_. 

Labour had begun exactly an hour after King Robert had left for his annual hunt. Some would argue that the Queen had forcefully held her water - ensuring that the King would leave undisturbed, without knowledge of his sons nearing arrival.

Now different handmaidens were running throughout the castle, aiding their soar Queen. Bringing change of clothing, bowls of water, with the Grad Master present. If God forbid the Queen should fall ill, the Grand Master would be right there by her side. The castle full attention was on the Queen and the child, and them alone. Despite of this, the Queen was quite uneasy. The Queens twin -Ser Jamie Lannister- was not present. Instead of being guarded by her golden brother, she was currently guarded by the Lord commander-  Ser Barristan Selmy.

\---

Her Jamie. Her golden twin. Her other half had abandoned her. They were two halves of a whole, and now he had abandoned her. All alone. Encircled by dimwits and nut-heads. Low lives with not the slightest understanding of her needs. She was the Queen. Her needs were paramount, yet they forced Jamie along on that blasted hunt. All because Robert thought it be fitting for the ever so “honourable” Ser Barristan to guard her. She did not want the Bold knight, she wanted Jamie. Now she would suffer by enduring the pain of their babe, while she worries for her twin’s wellbeing.

This was all to taunt her. To taunt them. To taunt the Lannister name. That bloody wolf-sucker! Kingslayer they called her twin. Dishonourable. Pha! Honour is common but craftly hidden arrogance! To only follow a crafted set of blasphemes rules, the world be damned. Lannister’s embraced their passions – they knew who they were. That blasted Stark was just sore he did not kill the Mad King himself.

Starks... Damn them! Burn them in the Seven Hells for their insolence. How dare he judge a lion. How dare she haunt her. How dare that wolf-bitch poison her marriage. Lyanna, Lyanna, Lyanna! On and on, that oaf would never shut up about her.

Dragon-whore! That was who she was. A liar and a dragon-whore! Beautiful Rhaegar Targaryen was taken by that witch – worshiper of the false and corrupt, it was only a matter of time till she would rob this world of its beauty! Savages! Blasted savages!

She stole Rhaegar from Cersei, now she was here to steal her husband. To take her crown. Even in death that wench spited her. All to bring her down. Now her wolf brother was finishing her work. NO! She would never allow that. Never. They would never give in. No Lion bends to a blasted wolf. Hear us Roar wench! Hear. Us. Roar!

-

“My Queen. Push!”

The pipsqueak voice of Briony, disturbed her thoughts. She was still in labour. It had been two agonising days, yet the babe had still not left her. She was completely drained of all energy. Her mother had never told her how she pushed though. They never had enough time together, thanks to that monster. Now her beloved mother was gone, and she was all alone.

God, she hoped for a boy. A golden lion - to grow, to strive into a fine King. Her King. A King who would uphold the Lannister name. Quick with the sword, just like his father. He would fight, while she would rule. Finally, through this babe she had power. True power. It did not matter that he was not Roberts seed. He was to be the king. The truth was what he made of it.

He was not the oafs seed, although that was not due to Roberts lack of trying. They had consummated their marriage, not matter how hurtful it was for her. How he pined her down and ripped her skin while calling for the ghost of another. Oh, how it hurt - body and soul.

She had tried pulling the seed out, but it was too late. On top of it all her father men would not let her out of the keep until she conceived an heir. She was trapped. Then she went to Jamie. Brave, strong Jamie tampered Roberts seed with his own. He had spilled several times, longer then Robert. Their love had killed the usurpers seed, she was sure of it. Although she never did tell Jamie the oafs seed had quickened. No matter, what had been done was done.

An ear-wrenching scream broke through the Red Keep. The little prince had come to this world. Cersei’s golden king was here in all his glory, blood, slime and all. To Cersei he was perfect. Her rouse had fooled them all. No one suspected her. The Baratheon’s dynasty’s first heir was no Baratheon at all. All thanks to her. She could not have been prouder. Philp, she named him. Philp Lannister, Robert be damned. He could have his dead Lyanna, she would have his kingdom.

Curly as well as dirty blond locks crafted to into a perfect fluffy mop of hair. His eyes, green as the emeralds beneath Castelyrock. Her son was the perfect picture of handsome beauty.

“Built like a bull I see. With those formed arms he will smash down keeps twice as big as Harrenhal.” Twittered that foul Grand Master.

Bull? Her son was no bull. He was a lion. Yes, his shoulders were a bit wide, but he was no bull. No – not even close to Robert the Oaf. His waist was slender and smooth, an exact replica of Jamie’s. How dare that leech call her son a bull. He was no friend of the Lannister’s. She should have him removed.

“There my boy! Come little one. Let me see you!”

 _What?!_ The Queen could not phantom why the King had arrived. Was he not at that blasted hunt? Who had called for him? The handmaidens had been instructed not to call for the King quite yet. Who dare disobey her command? **_Barristan_.** _That damned Barristan. Bold indeed._ How she wanted to rip his eyes out. In her eyes, he and Robert had ruined everything.

No! Robert not dare come any closer. That foul stench of a man. She would not his dirty hands touch her baby. Go find the dragon-whore bastards she wanted to scream at him. Leave Jamie and mine alone. 

She of course could not say this, her only option being to glare the King into submission.

" _ **Cersei**_ , give me my boy"

There the King was, towering over her bed. A hatefull sneer was all the king received in responds from his Queen. The audacity of this woman knew no bounds. Pestering him at every bloddy turn.

The Queen had not heeded his command for quite a while, giving no indication she was even considering it. Quite on the contrary, she was determined to keep the boy by her side, and away from King Robert. That wench had even named the boy, against his wishes. What was he to do of her? She was just a means to her father’s gold, yet she acted as if she owned him, and not he her.

"Give  _ **Stephan**_  to me Cersei."

"I am not holding anyone by the name of Stephan,  _ **Robert**_. I am holding my son Philip Lannister and I intend on keeping him"

The king snorted. Amused by her naivety. Did she really think she had any say in the matter? With one stroke of his hand, he ripped the sleeping baby out of his mother’s arms and placed him in his own. Stephan Baratheon squirmed, and squirmed, a small veil escaping his lips. Robert rocked him uncharacteristically gently and the boy stopped squirming, much to Queens outrage.

Furious and disoriented, the Queen had not boded well with being separated with her child. She demanded, no commanded that her son be immediately returned to her, spitting insults at her King. Robert only laughed. He left the room untouched, with the Kingsguard in tow.

“The Queen was exhausted” twittered the Grand Master, quick to reassure his king.

“Please do pardon her your grace, she is not in her right mind” he emphasised.

They soon all left her to rest. All but one. Jamie Lannister had sat down and embraced his weeping as well as angry sister. Quick to whisper soft words to her ear. Soon her exhaustion had finally done her in, but not before the caste grounds heard her final load Lannister roar.


	2. As Time went on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Now I have finnaly uppdated. This chapter was hell to write. Hopefullly I will be able to update more frequently. Hope you stick around :)

All hail crown prince Staphan. Great. Roberts Lannister wench had given birth to a Baratheon boy. A strong Baratheon boy, that would inherit his father's kingdom and temper, and his mother's ego. Truly a fit King for Westeros. Then again, when was Robert ever a fit King for Westeros. Although, it never mattered if one was ever qualified to rule. All you needed was plenty of charisma, loyalty, a powerful army and lot and lots of money. This was where the Lannister's entered the picture. Rather them, than the favourited Starks. As long as the Lannister's would uphold their part of the bargain, all would end well.

As of late he had heard some troubling news, regarding the Lannister twins, questioning Cersei's loyalty to Robert. The rumors where quite preposterous, some even accused her of incest. For now, he would give her the benefit of the doubt.

 

"Lord Stannis, Lord Renly has arrived." His brother, only 8 years of age, entered the great hall. All around them were different servants fussing about, preparing the castle for the introduction of the new prince. An unnecessary extravaganza in Stannises opinion, but Robert insisted.

"All well dear brother? How has Dragonstone been treating you?" said the little lord with a smirk plastered on his face. It had been less than a year, and the Lordship had already gone to his head. May God help them all for what was yet to come. "Splendid, brother dearest. Although I still miss the trusty winds of Stromsend" "Well, what Baratheon would not?" Little Renly's eyes were hungry searching the room. With a glance around, he seemed mildly intrigued.

"Tell me brother, was all of this arranged when I was born?"

"No, of course not. You are no prince, much less the first Baratheon prince. It is a special occasion. A truly wasted occasion, might I add. Robert should be saving up all that Targaryen gold, not throwing it away on expensive extravaganzas."

Renly muttered to himself, quite displeased with the answer he received. Displeased with the new completion he faced, Renly sulked. No longer was he the youngest and "sweetest" Baratheon boy. From this day on Stephan would be the heart of the Baratheon family, he knew that, but that did not mean he was content with it.

 

"Brother's! How golly you could make it!"

 

_**"Robert."** _

 

"Now what's with the long faces my men?! We are here to celebrate! Not to hang with our heads. The ditches of Kings Landing do not need company. I on the other hand need ma Brothers!"

Brothers of the borderline drunk king put up stiff smiles as best they could. Much to Lord Stannis's discontent, as they agreed this truly was an occasion of joy. Ruffing Renly's hair, the sawing Robert would lead them into a wide solar chamber, towards a golden embroiled crib. The crib had antlers sowed into its rear, as to prove the babe was Roberts. To whom? There was no need to ask.

 

Renly looked down at the sleeping babe, laying in his little crib without a worry in the world. Baby Stephan had so slender limbs, with the exception of his broad shoulders, who would become quite the advantage as time went on. Maybe not in battle but that sharp jaw of his would definitely grantee him some point with the gals of Westeros. Nonetheless was he truly something beautiful. As they stood there, admiring the babe, Lord Renly tucked at the boy’s fingers, measuring their length. With a sudden spring of force, Stephan garbed Renly’s finger, firmly and tightly.

"Auch. _Quite_ the strong grip you have there."

In the moment, all stood still. Silence lay all around them. Little Renly filched. Never had it come to his mind, that the little babe would be this strong. The boy locked Renly’s finger tight in his grip. No matter what Lord Renly tried, the babe would not budge. Baby Stephan's grip grew tighter with each breath. His nails tugging at Renly, as sharp claws. Deadly. Looking closer, they even seemed to wrap around him as vines. No, I could not be. A babe did not grow pedals nor vines. _What nonsense was he spouting?_ Lord Renly had clearly skipped a meal. That had to be it. The Lords hunger had clearly manifested wild thoughts. A babe could not grow vines. Period.

"Robert… could you possibly mind removing him?"

 

Robert shook away from his parental gaze. Never had he realized Stephan’s sudden change in mood. It seemed as if Stannis as well was unaware of Renly's struggles. _Typical_.

"Stephan. Let go of your uncle." No reaction. The boy had his sails set.

"Oh, I see the boy suddenly understands common tongue" Stannis muttered as he rolled his eyes. _Thank you, Stannis, that sarcasm was oh so clearly helping_. Renly’s two ever so incompetent brothers tried pulling the babe away, but all in vain. Their feeble attempt had almost given the boy permeant brain damage. Who were the men trying to foul anyways? Both them were two incompetent buffoons, better kept far away from Stephan. Their incompetent hands should not be within a mile’s radius of any babe for that matter. Sadly, that was not the case.

Someone must have heard them huffing and puffing. Before they knew it, they were surrounded by maids. The women were here to help, but dear old Robert was too stubborn to let his son go. Why could he not just admit defeat? _Ha. Robert does not even know what that means._ All to no use, the noise frightened the babe. Even worse, which each loud noise, Stephan would press his nails deeper, scraching Renly's finger. _Glorious_. If he kept up, Renly would receive his first battle scars from a frightened babe.

 

To make matters worse, it now seemed that Stephan, the stubborn demon, was on the verge of a temper tantrum. The boy’s face had swollen up, red and stuffy. His emerald eyes squinted right before they shut close. Knowledgeable sources, had informed Stannis of Stephan’s horrifying screams. When the disaster shook, he would not drop a decibel - until his mother dotted on him. When Stephan unleashed his full wrath, only his mother could calm him. Stephan's screams would tear through every wall in Kings Landing, any second now.

Still the King insisted not to call on the Queen. He was going to dissolve this matter on his own. As if he could dissolve any baby’s stubbornness, much less the stubbornness his own kin. They were doomed from the second Stephan’s grip had tightened. This boy was not backing down, Renly’s finger was his until the end of time.

Then it came. The roaring scream. Haunting and loud, reaching the havens above. Staggering pain aced him, as Stephan’s nails dug into his finger, drawing blood. The poor boy had enough of their madness. Their grabby hands had hit him one too many times, and now they would all suffer the consequences. As a result of their tormenting hustle, they had really shaken him up –thereby thrashed his mood. If Robert had not been so proudful, “the situation” would have been solved over an hour ago, but no. _Ours is the fury. **Indeed**_ **.**

 

“OW, STOP IT!”

 "My Queen…"

Would you not believe. Cersei Lannister herself had graced them with her glorious company. Tension had hit its peak. Their grace and savior, but as well as Roberts trigger of anger. _And for Seven Nephew, that was some inhumane strength_. Still, now that she was here, Renly would rather face Stephan than Robert.

 

Stephan immediately recognises his mother. His screams lower to whimpers, as he uses his lose hand to make grabby motions and demanding grunts towards her. Cersei only smiles, as she navigates her way towards her little cub. Her long elegant fingers reach for Stephan’s tummy, slipping beneath his cloth tapping at his naval. Instantly as the Queen touches her child, small giggles escape the boy as he flashes a smile. Just as he smiles, the queen picks him up and cradles him in her arms. Renly’s finger long forgotten.

Dear old Robert had stopped dead in his tracks. Stannis had quickly stepped away. Smart move, considering what could be boiling between the newlyweds.

 

“Ma!” the baby cooed.

Eventually as time went on Robert gestured toward Stephan. Maybe to signal his dominance or usefulness, or maybe out of pure jealousy of the bond between mother and child. Ironically as he touched his son, the babe grunted in disgust. A sly smirk formed on Cersei’s lips. It might have been the vine, or pure spite, but just as her smirk formed Robert smacked her.

Her smirk winded into a smile. As she knew some unreachable secret. In country to Cersei’s chip mood and smile, Stephan’s slow whimpers echoed through the room. His emerald orbs tracked Cersei’s every move. In a desperate attempt to comfort his mother, the babe’s small hands gently tugged her cheeks. The Queen might have been putting on hard front, but Renly could see how angry she was. If they were lucky they might be able to leave before she burst.

 

“Come Philp, let’s leave these hooligans”

As soon as she uttered those words she ran out of the room.


End file.
